


Border Crossing

by idlesuperstar



Category: LE CARRE John - Works, The Looking Glass War
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-26
Updated: 2017-06-26
Packaged: 2018-11-19 06:57:54
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,757
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11308110
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/idlesuperstar/pseuds/idlesuperstar
Summary: Avery remembered that first walk, the warmth of Leiser’s hand against his arm.





	Border Crossing

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Jennytheshipper](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Jennytheshipper/gifts).



> This is a missing scene from _The Looking Glass War_ (aka My Sad Queer Spies Let Me Show You Them). If you've not read the book, it will make little sense, I fear. Go and read the book, not to make sense of this fic, but because it's bloody brilliant. 
> 
> beta by the fabulous [fengirl88](http://archiveofourown.org/users/fengirl88/pseuds/fengirl88) who did a sterling job despite not having read the book, and having to rely on a sketch from me.

_ Avery put on his overcoat and went along the corridor, past tapestries of biblical quotations and an old print of Lübeck harbour. Leiser was sitting on a chair beside the tiled oven. _

_ "Hullo Fred." _

_ He looked old and tired.  _

_ "It's near here, isn't it, where I cross."  _

_ - _  John le Carré  _The Looking Glass War_ (chapter 16). __

 

 

Leiser fell silent, as if his worries had used all his words. Avery was unsure of what to say; Leiser was hunched and withdrawn, unreachable. Avery felt the damp of the flagstones creeping into his shoes. Leiser so often seemed like a child. Avery was at a loss, not knowing how to comfort him. It was the same with Anthony.

He got up and went to find the whisky, Leiser’s silent sad eyes following him.

“Here,” he said, handing a full tumbler over. “Fred, here.”

Leiser took it mutely, cradled it in his two hands as if it were a cup of cocoa to warm himself on.

Avery drank half of his in one swallow. The oven was dying down, the air colder. Avery put his hand on Leiser’s forearm. The warmth was reassuring. Leiser looked at him, sidelong, his face open. Avery remembered that first walk, the warmth of Leiser’s hand against his arm.

 

Leiser downed his drink in one gulp, made a face, and put his glass firmly down on the floor. His movements were precise, deliberate; those of a man who has made a decision.

“Come on,” he said to Avery, standing up so that Avery’s hand fell from his arm.

Avery looked at him, puzzled. 

“Come on, John,” Leiser said, and put his hand on Avery’s back. Avery finished his drink, putting it unsteadily on Leiser’s vacant chair, and stood, waiting to be led.

Leiser smiled, a brief flash of teeth, and steered him towards the outside door. He kept his hand on Avery’s back.

“Fred - “ Avery protested. 

“Hush, John,” Leiser said, unlatching the door with over-cautious movements. The air outside was only slightly colder than in the hall, the moon high and bright, the wind thankfully very light. Leiser took his hand away from Avery’s back to pull the door gently shut.

 

They stood, side by side, looking up at the moon. Avery buttoned his coat higher. Leiser slipped his arm through Avery’s, and Avery pressed it to his side, still looking at the moon. He could feel the pulse jumping in his throat. 

“How long do you stay here, John?” Leiser asked eventually. Avery was thrown for a moment, thinking Leiser meant here, in the cold moonlight. 

“What?”

“Here, John, in the house, in West Germany.”

“Oh, until you’re back, of course,” Avery replied, as if it were obvious. 

“You will be here tomorrow night?”

“Yes,” Avery said, wondering at Fred being so dogged. “Yes of course, you know that.”

Leiser lifted the arm that wasn’t pressed to Avery’s side and looked at his watch.

“Promise me, John,” he said, “that tomorrow at - “ pausing to look at his watch again, “ - oh one forty hours,” a little smile, pleased and self conscious at using the military form, “you will come out here and look at the moon.”

“Alright,” said Avery, “if you like.” He didn’t see the point, but it was likely he would be awake anyway.

“Promise,” Leiser demanded, and Avery, startled, looked at him. He looked scared, almost pleading.

“Yes of course,” Avery said, bewildered. “If you want me to, of  _ course _ , Fred.”

“Good.” Leiser’s face relaxed. And then, after a moment, “good,” he repeated, more quietly. 

There was silence for a while; Avery uncertain whether to ask Leiser’s reasons. Unsure, and a little afraid. He leaned closer to him, pressing lightly against his side. Leiser sighed, and pressed Avery’s arm more firmly. 

The wind was non-existent now. Avery was aware of his pyjamas under his overcoat, of how cold he should feel, but the tumbler full of whisky had blurred his edges enough to not care. 

“I’ll miss our walks,” he blurted out.

Leiser huffed a small laugh that Avery felt more than heard.

“Yes, they were the good times, John. The best.”

Leiser’s voice warmed him. He felt a little drunk, and full of camaraderie. 

“They were, Fred,” he said, aware of the truth of it. He pressed closer to Leiser’s side. 

“We’ll take London walks when I get back,” Leiser said, lightly, and Avery felt as though Leiser were humouring him. 

“You promise?” 

“John - “ Leiser sounded hurt.

“Sorry.”

“I promise, John,” Leiser said, gravely. 

“Like the moon?”

“Like the moon. Yes.”

He was so sincere. Avery felt happy. 

“Good,” he said. “Good, I’ll - I’ll look forward to it,” he said, his voice cracking. Of course Leiser would get back. Avery almost believed it himself, now. 

He hung his head, not wanting Leiser to see his face.

“John,” Leiser said softly, and Avery felt his arm draw away. His side was cold again.

“John,” he said again, and Avery looked up to see Leiser in front of him, very close. 

Leiser put his hands up to Avery’s face. They were cold, but so was Avery’s face.

“John,” Leiser said a third time, looking directly at him, into his eyes, and Avery had to take his glasses off to see him clearly, so that he would not miss anything.

Leiser huffed out a small sigh. Avery felt it warm against his face. Leiser kissed him.

Avery jerked back, his glasses hanging helplessly in his hand.

Leiser looked at him, his eyes kind, almost pitying, and said softly, “John.”

“It’s not - I’m not - Sarah - ” Avery stammered.

“Sarah?” Leiser’s voice was soft, and he didn’t take his hands away.

“Sarah. My wife. No - ” Avery managed, as Leiser’s face fell, “no, I mean - ” he grasped Leiser’s elbow with his free hand. 

“She said, the last time I saw her - she asked if all the Mayfly people were men.” He gulped a breath in, and fumbled his glasses into his coat pocket so that he could touch Leiser with both hands.

“She said - when I came back, I looked like I’d fallen in love.” This last with a confessional, guilty air.

Leiser said nothing for a moment, and the only sound was their breathing. 

“And - have you, John?” he asked, finally. His voice was steady, but Avery could feel the tension in the muscles under his hands.

“I - I don’t know.” A pause. “Maybe.” He dropped his eyes. “Yes. I - ” he paused again, blushing, like a lonely child made aware of his solitude. “I’m not sure - I‘m not sure I know what it feels like,” he finally admitted, embarrassed.

“John,” Leiser’s voice was kind again. “My poor John,” he said, and Avery could not stand his pity.

“I’m not your ‘poor John’,” he said, angrily, gripping Leiser’s hard biceps. “I’m not, alright? I’m - ”

He broke off, and kissed Leiser, clumsily, hard.

Leiser’s mouth was soft and dry, the skin of his face smooth and unstubbled. A shocking contrast with his strong, wiry body. Avery pulled back. Leiser dropped his hands to his sides, palms outwards, like a man showing he is unarmed. Avery looked at him, the moonlight cutting shadows under his cheekbones, and thought him strangely beautiful in his stillness. 

Leiser was the one in charge now. Avery had never had that before. He flexed his fingers on Leiser’s arms, a small, intimate gesture. 

“Fred,” he said, quietly, and kissed him again, softly this time, as if he were a shy girl.

Leiser moved then; Avery felt his strong arms go around his waist, pulling their bodies together. Leiser kissed him back, an odd combination of firm and gentle. Avery could smell Leiser’s hair oil, as familiar as the smell of Sarah’s perfume. 

Leiser shifted slightly, pressing them closer together. Avery felt the warm wet tip of Leiser’s tongue against his own like an electric current. He slipped his hands under Leiser’s jacket, the silk of his shirt smooth and warm against his palms. The muscles of Leiser’s back were strong and supple. Avery could feel the bumps of his spine beneath his fingertips. Leiser shivered, and pressed closer to Avery, his stomach up tight against the buttons of Avery’s coat. Avery’s cock twitched at the muffled pressure, and Leiser pressed harder for a moment, as if he had felt it.

Leiser pulled his mouth away from Avery’s with a noise that was obscenely loud in the quiet of the night. 

“Wait, John,” he said, breathing heavily, his arms still tight around Avery’s waist. Avery leaned in and kissed him again, licking hot and wet into his mouth. He felt the shift and press of Leiser’s body. It was impossible to wait, to delay any further. Avery felt the same thrill he’d had at the shooting range, with the force of the gun in his hand. Watching Leiser shooting hard and fast and accurately. 

Leiser loosened his grip and took Avery’s face in his hands, thumbs strong along his jaw. Avery could feel the strength, as if Leiser wished to pull away, and so he pressed closer, challenging him. Leiser made a small high sound in his throat, and gripped harder, his strong fingers pushing into Avery’s hair. Avery’s cock jerked in triumph, rising in the loose hold of his pyjamas and he pushed forward, seeking heat and firmness to rub against. Leiser was shorter than him, and Avery’s cock pressed against his belly. Avery groaned at the sensation, faint though it was, and Leiser dragged himself away from Avery’s mouth. His cheeks were flushed, even in the dark, and Avery could not tell what colour his eyes were. 

“John,” Leiser murmured, breathlessly, “not here, John.”

Avery felt a thrill of power at Leiser’s shakiness. “We can’t go inside,” he said, all the time aware of Leiser’s firm belly against his thickening cock, of Leiser’s own cock, pressed awkwardly against his overcoat. 

“Come along,” Leiser said, dropping his hands from Avery’s face. Avery made a noise of protest, and moved to kiss him again.

Leiser said, “ _ Please,  _ John,” in a cracking voice, his eyes wild. Avery stepped back, freeing him. The view ahead was indistinct, and he realised that he was not wearing his glasses. He put a hand on Leiser’s arm, as a blind man would, and allowed himself to be led. 

Leiser took them to one of the cattle sheds. It was musty, with a smell that Avery assumed must be old hay. It was a little warmer inside. There was a jagged hole in the roof that let in just enough moonlight to see by. Leiser’s face was shadowy and soft as he stopped and turned to face Avery. 

“All the comforts of home,” he said, wryly. Another of his adopted idioms. Avery looked to where he gestured, and saw hay bales, big and compact, serviceable enough to lie on if they wished. 

He stood still, wavering between wanting to act, and the shame of his inexperience. Leiser put a hand on his arm and pulled him close again.

The kiss was fierce, familiar. Avery gave himself to it. He put his hands on Leiser’s neck, feeling the thick, oiled strands of his hair. He felt Leiser’s hands on his coat, unbuttoning it. His cock twitched at the thought of exposure. Leiser’s strong arms slipped under his coat, around his back, warm through the thin fabric of his pyjama jacket. 

Leiser’s cock was a hard pressure against his thigh, and he widened his stance, pressing against it. He felt it jump. Leiser moaned softly into his mouth. 

Avery grew bolder, rubbing his cock up against Leiser’s belly. Leiser broke the kiss and dropped his head to Avery’s neck, breathing quickly. 

“I never got a woman,” he said indistinctly against Avery’s throat. He was grinding his cock into Avery’s thigh with rhythmic concentration. 

“What?”

“In London.” A breath. “When you sent me away - from Oxford.” His fingers clenched and unclenched on Avery’s back. “I didn’t want a woman,” he grunted out.

Avery’s stomach lurched. “I missed you,” he confessed into Leiser’s hair. “I didn’t want you to go.” He had one palm on the nape of Leiser’s neck, and dropped the other to his arse, pulling him nearer. 

“You were getting drunk,” Leiser said, “with  _ Jack. _ ” He spat the name out. 

“I’d much rather it had been you,” Avery said, pulling at the scruff of Leiser’s neck. Leiser raised his head, his eyes unfocused. 

“Truly?”

“Truly, Fred,” Avery said, bluntly, and kissed him. 

“I believe you, John,” Leiser said, his face clearing. He gave Avery his trust like a child would.

Leiser moved his hands down Avery’s back, one across his arse, the other he pushed blindly under his pyjama jacket. Avery felt the smoothness of his palm, the even, light, scratch of his manicured nails. 

Avery closed his eyes and dropped his forehead to Leiser’s shoulder. Leiser was still grinding against his thigh, the action forcing Avery’s cock into a distracting rhythm against Leiser’s belly. His overcoat shrouded their actions like a cloak.

Leiser slipped a hand under Avery’s pyjama waistband, dug his fingertips into the meat of his arse. Avery jolted forward, half in fear, half in urgency.

“Fred,” he whispered unsteadily.

“Can I touch you, John?”

Avery found the politeness of the question faintly ridiculous. Leiser’s hands were all over him, and yet he was asking permission. Like a boy asking for sweets after he’s already eaten them. 

“That horse has bolted,” he breathed, almost laughing. Leiser looked confused. That idiom had obviously passed him by. 

“John?”

“ _ Yes, _ ” Avery said, gripping Leiser’s neck tighter. Leiser smiled, kissed him once, hard, and dropped his hands from Avery’s back and arse. Avery moaned a complaint. Leiser fumbled at Avery’s pyjama trousers, found entry, and clasped his warm strong hand around Avery’s cock. Avery groaned loudly in the silence, and dropped his head to Leiser’s shoulder. Leiser worked his cock with swift, precise movements. His arm was twisted awkwardly between their bodies. Avery could see little in the dark shroud of his coat. He pushed up into Leiser’s hand, a counterpoint. Leiser flicked a thumb over the head of his cock and Avery shuddered.

“Jesus Christ, Fred,” he said, breath hot against the fine wool of Leiser’s jacket.

“Good?”

“Bloody good.”

It was different from how he did it. It was the way Leiser touched himself, he realised with a thrill. His fine smooth hands, tight and sure. More confident than any girl. 

Avery smiled, feeling grateful. What a rare chance it had been, their meeting. Leiser worked steadily. The angle must be difficult for him, but he was dedicated. Avery felt Leiser’s breath against his ear. Leiser’s hand was on his waist, steadying them both.

“John.”

Avery nodded wordlessly against Leiser’s shoulder.

“John,” Leiser said again. His voice was hoarse. Avery mumbled a noise. Leiser stopped moving his hand, and Avery lifted his head to look at him. 

“I want to suck you, John,” he said. “Would you like that?”

Avery’s stomach lurched. His cock jumped in Leiser’s grasp. “Christ, yes.”

Leiser grinned at his reaction. He took his hand away and steered Avery backwards until his legs hit the hay bales. 

“I think you should sit,” he said, and Avery clasped his neck and kissed him. Leiser smiled against his mouth. He was eager, enthusiastic, and Avery felt the fast throb of his pulse under his hand. He pulled away, smiling. Leiser’s gaze was intense, his hair disarrayed. Avery shrugged his coat off and spread it over the hay bales. The lining felt smooth against his hands. He sat down, legs weakening. His cock was jutting through the slit in his pyjamas. 

Leiser rested a hand on Avery’s shoulder, his thumb against Avery’s neck, stroking lightly over the pulse there. Avery reached a hand out awkwardly to Leiser’s belt, hooking a finger lightly into the waistband of his trousers. 

“What about you, Fred?” He was ashamed of his selfishness. Leiser’s cock was pressed fat and tight against his narrow trousers. Avery touched fingertips to the wool alongside it. It was half tease, half nervousness. Leiser shivered. Avery was suddenly anxious. What did Leiser expect from him?

Leiser’s hand squeezed his shoulder. “Anything, John,” he said, as though he had read Avery’s thoughts.

Avery moved his fingertips along the line of Leiser’s cock. It was thick and warm through the fabric. Leiser gripped his shoulder harder. Emboldened, Avery palmed the shape of Leiser’s cock, squeezing gently. 

“God Christ,” Leiser muttered. Avery put his other hand on Leiser’s belt buckle, fumbling it undone. There was no getting a decent grip on Leiser’s cock without undressing him. Leiser put his other hand on Avery’s other shoulder. Avery felt the tension in him, how his weight shifted.

Avery used both hands to unzip Leiser’s trousers, careful of the fine wool. Leiser’s cock sprang towards him, pushing against his underwear. Avery freed it, and Leiser huffed out a breath. Avery could see little in the shadowy darkness, certainly not enough to compare. He took Leiser’s cock in his hand, and Leiser thrust forward with a moan. Avery tried to remember Leiser’s technique, what he liked for himself. They found a rhythm.

“God Christ, John, that is good,” Leiser said. Avery blushed with pleasure, like a praised protege. He looked up at Leiser but his face was in shadow. 

“John,” Leiser said softly, and cupped a hand on his face. Avery leaned into it like a supplicant. Leiser’s thumb stroked his cheek, dragged across his mouth. Avery tightened his grip and Leiser moaned. He was trembling. 

Avery noted Leiser’s reactions, fascinated by them. Every twist of his hand or drag of his thumb sent shudders through him. He felt the power of it, like shooting a gun, or driving a fast car. Like Spitfire pilots, in raptures at the responsiveness of their plane. A machine so fine-tuned for its purpose that it needed only the lightest touch. He had never experienced anything like it. 

“John,” Leiser said again. No-one had ever said his name in that way, like he was the most important person in their world. He swallowed, aware of the great gift it was, the great burden. Leiser’s thumb was still pressing across his mouth, and on impulse he sucked at it. Leiser groaned out a low sound, his fingers tightening on Avery’s jaw. 

Avery suddenly wanted very much to kiss him again. He pushed to his feet, careful to keep the rhythm of his hand fast and tight on Leiser’s cock, despite the awkward twist his arm made. Leiser moved his hand to the back of Avery’s neck and pulled him in fiercely, meeting his mouth. Leiser made a noise in his throat, and fisted his hands in Avery’s pyjama jacket, steadying himself. Avery grasped the hair at Leiser’s nape, keeping him in place. The muscles in his forearm were starting to ache from the awkward angle of his hand on Leiser’s cock. Leiser moved a hand up to Avery’s hair, keeping their mouths together. Avery eventually had to break off the kiss, gasping for breath. 

“Christ, Fred,” he murmured. He felt like he had after the impromptu wrestling they had done - electrified, his entire body humming with energy. This is what it feels like, he thought, but said nothing. He didn’t want Leiser’s pity.

“The best, John,” Leiser said, panting a little, Avery’s hand still working him. Warmth flooded Avery. Leiser understood. Leiser felt it too. 

Unexpectedly, Leiser put a hand on his forearm, forcing him to stop its movement. “No more, John, not yet,” Leiser said softly. “I want it to last. And -- ” his fingers flexed hard on Avery’s arm, “I still want to suck you.”

Avery sat down with a moan at Leiser’s words, suddenly aware of his cock jutting through his pyjamas. Leiser dropped to his knees in front of him in one fluid, controlled movement. He put his hands on Avery’s knees, easing his legs wider. 

“How do you like it, John?” Leiser asked, looking up at him, eyes shining. “Tell me what you like.”

Avery blushed, remembering all Leiser’s stories of his liaisons. Conscious again of his silence in those conversations.

“You,” he stuttered out. “Just - ” he trailed off, helplessly. 

Leiser squeezed his knee, either in reassurance or acknowledgement. 

“Move forward a little,” was all he said, and Avery complied, perching on the edge of the bale. He felt Leiser’s breath warm on his cock and then the tight wet suck of his mouth around it. The supple flex of his tongue. He jerked forward at the sensation and Leiser drew back a little, following his movement. Avery leant back, balancing his weight on his arms. He looked down his body into the shadow, at Leiser’s head bobbing, his hair falling in disarray.

There had been a girl in Oxford, before Sarah. They’d fumbled their way through sex, inexperienced together. She’d offered to suck him, once. It had been awkward and unarousing, both of them nervous and clumsy. It hadn’t occurred to him to reciprocate. 

Leiser’s mouth was warm and wet, his tongue a firm, beautiful pressure. Avery tilted his head back, tensing his thighs. He thought of Leiser shooting at the target range, his arm straight and precise. Firing fast and hard and focused. It was impossible not to thrust into his mouth. Leiser moved his hands up Avery’s thighs, pushing them wider. He leaned his weight in, restricting Avery’s movement, using his superior strength. Avery’s heart kicked hard in his chest.

“Jesus Christ, Fred,” he gasped.

Leiser hummed a reply that vibrated around his cock, and Avery swore again, jerking involuntarily against the firm hold of Leiser’s hands. Leiser pushed harder with his hands, leaning more weight into them and hummed again, sucking more tightly. Avery’s legs were trembling. He was gasping hard for breath, fighting sensation. All too soon he felt the inevitable rush overtake him, before he could give any warning. Leiser didn’t stop. He dug his fingertips into Avery’s thighs and Avery shuddered hard, jerking uncontrollably against the hold, and came in Leiser’s mouth. He found himself bowed forward, moaning out sounds, his hands instinctively holding Leiser’s head in place on his cock.

 

Eventually, Leiser softened his mouth. Avery fell back, spent. Leiser’s fingers flexed and unflexed on Avery’s thighs, as if in reassurance. Finally, he let Avery’s cock slip from his mouth with a wet sound, and sat back on his heels. Avery stared into the indistinct darkness above him. The moon was a blurred dot of white through the hole in the roof. His chest was heaving, his breath loud and ragged. Leiser’s hands were still massaging his thighs. 

“Christ, Fred,” he said after his breathing had calmed enough to speak. “Jesus Christ, Fred.”

He heard Leiser’s low laugh from somewhere beneath him. Reaching out a weak arm, he felt around in the darkness. He touched Leiser’s hair, stroking it awkwardly. Leiser rested his head against Avery’s thigh like a dog being petted.

They stayed silent for a while. Avery’s mind was pleasantly blank. The trembling in his limbs had subsided, leaving a heavy lassitude. Leiser’s head was a comforting weight on his thigh. A point of contact.

After some time, he said “Come here, Fred.” He tugged lightly at Leiser’s hair. Leiser lifted his head and pushed himself effortlessly to his feet. Avery struggled to an upright position. The moonlight showed Leiser’s naked thighs, pale beneath his shirt tails. Avery saw the jut of his cock under the shirt, and touched a finger lightly to the head.

“John,” Leiser murmured. Avery reached under the silk of Leiser’s shirt and took a firm hold of his cock. Leiser stumbled forward, his first ungraceful movement, to stand between Avery’s spread thighs. Avery felt Leiser’s hand on his shoulder. He looked down at his own hand working fast. His wrist was already aching. He stopped. Leiser grumbled. 

“Here, Fred,” he said, putting his hands on Leiser’s sides and turning him around, “sit, here.” He guided Leiser onto the edge of the hay bale, between his legs. Leiser hitched up his shirt tails and sat, his bare arse up against Avery’s spent cock. Avery shivered at the sensation. 

With Leiser between his thighs it was much easier. Like doing it to himself. He hooked his chin over Leiser’s shoulder and looked down at his hand on Leiser’s cock. Leiser clamped his hands on Avery’s knees. The wool of his suit was hot and scratchy under Avery’s chin. Leiser keened out a small sound, his chest heaving. Avery pressed his lips to Leiser’s throat, licked across the skin. Leiser tilted his head back.

“That’s it,” Avery murmured into his ear. “Good, Fred.” 

Leiser hitched a breath in and Avery smiled into his neck. 

“Christ, John,” Leiser said, and took his hand from Avery’s knee. He grasped tightly around Avery’s long fingers on his cock. Avery hummed into his ear, pleased. Together they worked, Leiser’s smaller, stronger hand tight around Avery’s. Avery watched Leiser’s cock pumping through the grip of their fists. Leiser was tense, taut, his spine straight and his arse pushing back into Avery’s cock. 

Leiser was giving off heat at every point they were touching, neck to groin, plastered hard up against Avery’s front. Avery marvelled at the way they slotted together. How his longer legs bracketed Leiser’s perfectly. How his chin tucked into Leiser’s neck like a dovetail joint. He felt purposeful, as if he had been intended for this all along. He turned his face into Leiser’s neck again and bit it, very gently.

“Christ,” Leiser gasped out, sounding very unsteady.  

“Good, Fred,” Avery said. “That’s it. Come on, now.” 

Leiser gasped a wordless cry out and his cock jerked erratically, spurting out over their hands. Avery watched, fascinated, feeling Leiser’s body locked tight in spasm. There was spunk on Leiser’s silk shirt, and on his tie. Leiser slumped, and Avery had to brace himself to take the sudden weight. 

Leiser was panting hard, his belly blowing in and out. He took his hand away from Avery’s. Avery let go of Leiser’s cock and held his sticky hand out in front of them, uncertain what to do. Leiser took a handkerchief from his breast pocket and wiped his own hand, and then Avery’s, fastidiously. Avery dropped his chin to Leiser’s shoulder and brought his arms around his belly, holding him tightly. Leiser rested his arms on top of Avery’s. They sat in silence, listening to Leiser’s breathing slowly returning to normal.       

 

They slumped against each other, counterbalanced. Avery could feel Leiser’s belly rising and falling under his arms, and was overwhelmed for a moment by Leiser’s humanity, the simple warmth and fragility of him. 

He remembered holding Anthony for the first time, terrified that he would not be able to protect the tiny helpless creature he was. Babies were robust, Sarah had said, laughing at him. But men were deceptively vulnerable, precious. He tightened his arms around Leiser, harder than was comfortable. Leiser hummed quietly, and leaned into him.

“John?” he asked, after some moments of silence.

“Hmm?”

“Alright?”

“Yes.” Avery realised that he meant it. He felt an unusual contentment. “Yes. I’m fine.” 

Silence for a minute and then, anxious that Leiser had asked for a particular reason, he said, “You?”

“Bloody good, John,” Leiser said, and his certainty made Avery smile.  

“Are you cold?” The air was chilly again, or more accurately, he was aware of the chill of the air again. “Perhaps we should go back?” He put the question tentatively, leaving Leiser the room to disagree.   

“I’m fine, John,” Leiser sighed. He was silent for a moment, and then, “It will be no warmer inside.”

It was a lie, and they both knew it, but it left room for plausible deniability. They had both been well trained in the ambiguities, after all. Avery felt a warmth blooming.

“You should try to sleep, Fred.”

“I won’t sleep.” Leiser was petulant, as if Avery had intended to send him to bed like an overtired child up too late. 

Avery smiled to himself. “We should go back before the others wake up, though.” As if it was a capitulation. He thought then, had they already been missed? They could say they’d been for a walk. Their walks were legendary, a fact. Jack probably slept like the dead, anyway, able to wake on a hair trigger. Avery didn’t know if Haldane ever slept properly. And Haldane was an insightful man. Anxiety welled up, ready to overwhelm him.

“Relax, John,” Leiser murmured, pressing against him. “We can go back before dawn. The captain won’t think anything of it.” He didn’t mention Jack. Jack clearly didn’t count. Avery thought of Jack’s near constant innuendos, his view of Leiser as an incorrigible ladies’ man. For the first time Avery wondered how much of Leiser’s stories were camouflage. 

“You should still try and sleep, though, Fred,” Avery said. “At least, lie down.”

“I will, if you lie down with me,” Leiser bargained. It was as if he thought Avery capable of going back to his own bed.

“Alright, come on,” Avery said, loosening his hold and making to move. Leiser stood up, and Avery felt the coldness of the air instantly. Leiser bent down, affording Avery a brief look at his pale naked arse, and pulled his underwear and trousers up in one swift, precise movement. Avery, suddenly aware of his own cock still flopped out of his pyjamas, tucked himself away hurriedly. He stood up and wavered helplessly as Leiser quickly re-spread his overcoat out, and took his own jacket off, folding it neatly into a pillow. He gestured grandly towards his work, and Avery smiled. “Home comforts indeed, Fred.”

“Lie down, John,” Leiser said softly, and Avery obeyed. Shuffling into a better position, he felt a hard lump under his thigh, and realised that it was his glasses, pocketed earlier and forgotten. He dug around for them. He could not afford to break them. 

Leiser lay down beside him, folding himself up into the space to face him. 

“Go to sleep, John,” he said quietly, his eyes shadowed. “I’ll wake you in time.” He moved closer, putting an arm over Avery, and kissed him softly. Avery pulled him closer, bumping their knees together. He almost didn’t want to sleep, if this was the alternative, but he was drifting already. He felt Leiser’s breath warm on his cheek, Leiser’s arm heavy across his waist, and fell asleep.

His dreams were muddled, hallucinatory. He drifted in and out of sleep, the cold at his back making it hard to settle. Every time he woke Leiser was still tucked up against him. He drowsed into dreams of the following day, of Leiser not making it across the border, of Haldane telling him that Leiser would not be coming back. The next time he woke he was freezing. Leiser was sitting up, his back to Avery, which explained the cold. Avery felt sick with tiredness, gritty eyed and grimy.

“Fred?” he mumbled, his mouth dry. Leiser turned instantly, and put a hand to Avery’s shoulder. He leaned in and moved his hand to Avery’s hair, brushing it off his forehead with a terrifying gentleness. 

“John,” he said, quietly, and kissed him, a brief, dry kiss. Avery rubbed a hand across his eyes, and said, “What time is it?”

“Just after five. Dawn in half an hour.”

“Come here,” Avery said, pulling at him, and Leiser went willingly, stretching out beside him. Avery huddled them together, rubbing at Leiser’s back to warm him. Leiser huffed a quiet laugh, and burrowed his head under Avery’s chin. He insinuated a thigh between Avery’s legs, pressing up tight. Avery felt a jolt of lust, despite his tiredness. 

“Ah, Christ, John,” Leiser mumbled, his voice rough. “I wish we had more time.” 

“Me too,” Avery replied, gripping him tightly. 

Leiser lifted his head to look at Avery’s face, a small, cheeky smile on his face. “I wanted you to fuck me,” he said, lightly, and Avery had to kiss him, hard, to stop himself saying something appallingly sentimental. Leiser smiled into the kiss, and Avery cursed the Department, and Haldane. He cursed England and the Queen and especially bloody LeClerc. 

Leiser pulled away eventually, and gulped a breath. “Next time, eh, John?”

“Next time,” Avery replied, with the fervour of a man promising the unachievable. “Next time,” he said, more quietly, and pulled Leiser to him, to lie silent and warm for a moment longer. 

Eventually they had to move. The light was turning grey, and dawn was approaching. Leiser sat up, smoothed his hair back into place, and stretched his arms above his head, groaning. Avery stumbled to his feet, and pulled his overcoat around himself. He fumbled in the pocket and put his glasses back on. 

“I’d got used to you without them,” Leiser said, sadly. Avery touched a hand to his arm, silently, and they made their way back to the house. Leiser unlatched the door with care, and the hallway was warm and light in comparison to the outside, even though the oven was almost out. Avery sat down heavily on one of the chairs, and touched his hand to the empty glass he’d left there mere hours ago. Leiser fed some wood into the oven, and sat down next to him, silent. The wood crackled. Avery clenched and unclenched his fists, trying to warm them. 

“You won’t forget about the moon,” Leiser said suddenly. 

“I won’t forget,” Avery promised. 

Leiser was looking at the floor, his hands clasped loosely in front of him. It was as if the return to the house had robbed him of all his command.

“When you do it,” Leiser’s voice was quiet and unsteady, “think about me. Because I will be doing the same, and thinking about you. That is what I wanted you to know. Why -” he broke off, voice breaking a little, “ - why I wanted you to do it.”

“I promise, Fred,” Avery whispered fervently. He wanted to touch him, to reach out boldly, but all he managed was a hand on his arm. Leiser looked at him sidelong, eyes shining. 

“You should get to bed, John.”

“What about you?”

“I’m alright.”

“I’ll stay a bit longer.”

They sat in silence, staring at the floor, marooned in their own thoughts. Once, Leiser said, “John,” very softly, as if to himself, and Avery could find nothing to say. 

Leiser didn’t talk after that. When the morning came, Avery returned to his room.  

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> For my partner in espionage [jennytheshipper](http://archiveofourown.org/users/Jennytheshipper/pseuds/Jennytheshipper), who is sunk neck-deep in the Smiley books with me, for which I am very grateful. Special shout out to Michael Jayston for having done all the audiobooks and making his voice my inner monologue.
> 
> TLGW is not one of the more famous of JLC's books, but it is fucking tremendous. This is the first fic I've done that had to try to match a narrative voice and fucking hell it's hard! You canon-novel people are geniuses. 
> 
> John le Carré owns my soul. He also owns the last line of this fic, so I hope he doesn't mind me borrowing it for my own nefarious purposes.


End file.
